“Permission?” Her eyes kindled. “This! This is why I never wanted to get married. This . . . this right that men seem to think they have to control every aspect of a woman’s life! Or else leave them and their children to sink or swim as best they can. Never anything in between.”

Hart hung on to his temper by a thread. What the devil did children have to do with it? Or swimming. “What is it precisely you object to, madam? Is it—”

“Don’t ‘madam’ me!”

He ignored her. “Is it not my right to be kept informed of my affianced wife’s whereabouts? Our wedding is in ten days’ time and you—you disappear without explanation.”

“So?” She flung her hands up in outrage.

“You belong to me, and don’t you forget it.”

She made a vehement gesture. “No! I don’t belong to you or anyone else. I belong to myself. I am yours only as long as I choose! I am not your—your possession. Or your chattel. The only thing that holds me is my promise to you.”

He clenched his jaw. She damn well did belong to him—or she would once they were married. But he knew better than to remind her of it.

She must have read something in his expression, because she stormed on. “I go away for a few days to accompany my elderly great-aunt because she had an urgent need to return home, and you come storming after me as if I’d run off with—with some rake!”

“I did nothing of the sort,” he said stiffly. It was exactly what he’d done.

She stared at him a moment. Her eyes narrowed. “Good grief—that’s it, isn’t it? You thought I was planning to jilt you. Even though I had given you my word I would marry you—my word!—you didn’t trust me to keep my promise.”

“Nonsense.” It was exactly what he’d thought.

“Then why did you come chasing after me, breathing fire and brimstone and sending my maid away?”

“What has the maid got to do with it?”

“She’s not your maid.”

“She’s not yours, either.”

“No, but my great-aunt sent her to accompany me. You had no right to order her around.”

Hart didn’t give a snap of his fingers for the maid. He glanced past Georgiana, out of the back window and saw the yellow post chaise following with the maid still in it. He swore under his breath. “And so she’s coming anyway. Do you ever do as you’re told?”

“Not if I don’t agree with it. Sue was so excited to be coming to London—she’s never been much past Bath—and I’m not going to disappoint her at this late stage.”